Cecil, William

, lord Burleigh, an illustrious statesman of the sixteenth century, descended from the ancient
and honourable family of Sitsilt, or Cecil, of Alterennes,
in Herefordshire, was the son of Richard Cecil*, master
of the robes to Henry VIII. by Jane, daughter and heiress
of William Hickington, of Bourne, co. Lincoln, esq. He
was born in the house of his grandfather, David Cecil, at

*

This Richard, by the interest of
his father, David Cecil, or Cyssel, of
Stamford, in Lincolnshire, esq. was
preferred in the eighth year of Henry
VIII. to be one of the pages of the
crown. In 1520 he waited on the
king at that famous interview with the
king of France, between Calais and
Guiennes; and in 1530, being groom
of the robes to that king, obtained a
grant of the office of constable of Warwick-castle, then in the crown. In
3335, being one of the grooms of the
wardrobe, he had a grant of the office
f bayliff of the king’s water called
Wittlcsey-mere, and the custody of
the swans, and of those waters called
Great Crick and Merys, in the counties of Cambridge, Lincoln, Huntingdon, and Northampton, for the term
of thirty years, after the expiration of
the term granted to David Cyssell his
father. In 1539 he was sheriff of Rutlandshire. In 1540, being written
Richard Cecyll of Hurley, in the county
of Northampton, esq, he had a grant
to him, his heirs, and ass-igns for ever,
of the site of St. Michael’s priory
near Stamford, and the church, and
299 acres of arable land, lying in the
parish of St. Martin’s, in Stamford, in
the county of Northampton. In 1542,
being then yeomaa of the wardrobe,
he was made yeoman of the king’s
manors of Nassington, Yarwel, and
Upton, in the county of Northampton,
for life. In 1544 he purchased the
manor of Esyngdon, in the county of
Rutland, then also in the crown, as
a parcel of the earl of Warwick’s
lands, and the following year he surrendered his custody of Warwickcastle. He remained yeoman of the
robes to king Edward VI. to tke last
day of his life, which was the nineteenth of May, 1552; and dying at
court, his body was interred in the
parish church of St. Margaret’s Westminster. In the month of April, 1553,
a commission was issued to sir RichardCotton, sir Ralph Sadler, and
sir Walter Mildmay, knights, together
with Edmund Pidgeon, clerk of the
wardrobes, any three or two of them,
to take an account of Jane Cecil, auJ.
sir William Cecil, knt. administrators
of the testament of Richard Cecil, for
certain robes, apparel, and jewels of
the king, in the custody of the said
Richard. His widow, who survived
him thirty-five years, was a very grave,
religious, and virtuous lady, delighting
much in works of piety and charity,
as well in her life-time as at her decease, March 10, 1587, aged eightyseven. The lord-treasurer Burl^fc
caused to be erected at the upper end
of the north chancel in St. Martin’s
church at Stamford, a noble monument to the memory of his parents; and
by it is his own.

| Bourne, in Lincolnshire, Sept. 13, 1520, and was first educated at the grammar-school at Grantham, whence he
afterwards removed to Stamford. On May 27, 1535, he
entered of St. John’s-college, Cambridge, and was no less
distinguished by the regularity of his life, than by an uncommonly diligent application to his studies. Finding
several persons of eminent talents at that time students
there, this inspired him with such a thirst for learning,
that he made an agreement with the bell-ringer to call him
up at four o’clock every morning, and this sedentary life
brought on a humour in his legs, which, although removed
with some difficulty, his physicians considered as one of
the principal causes of that inveterate gout with which he
was tormented in the latter part of his life. Dr. Nicholas
Medcalfe, who was at this time master of the college, was
his principal patron, and frequently gave him money to
encourage him; but the strong passion he had to excel his
contemporaries, and to distinguish himself early in the
university, was the chief spur to his endeavours. At sixteen he read a sophistry lecture, and at nineteen a Greek
lecture, not for any pay or salary, but as a gentleman for
his pleasure, and this at a time when there were but few
who were masters of Greek, either in that college or in
the university. But though he applied himself with so
much assiduity to Greek literature, he laid up at the same
time a considerable stock of general knowledge, having
then no particular predilection to any single branch of
science.

About 1541, his father placed him in Gray’s-inn, with
a view to the profession of the law, where he pursued the
same indefatigable application, until by an accidental display of his knowledge, he became known at court. One
O’Neil, an Irish chief, brought to court two of his chaplains, who falling in with Mr. Cecil, engaged in a dispute
with him on the power of the Roman pontiff, in which he
had so much the superiority, that the matter was mentioned to Henry VIII. who expressed a desire to see him,
admired his abilities, and gave him the reversion of the
place of custos brevium.

Such early encouragement diverted Mr. Cecil from the
profession of the law, and his marriage with the sister of
the celebrated sir John Cheke, who introduced him to the
earl of Hertford, afterwards duke of Somerset, probably
directed his views to politics. In the beginning of the
| reign of Edward VI. he came into possession of his office
of custos brevium, worth 240l. a year, and having married,
as his second wife, Mildred, daughter of sir Anthony Cook,
his interest at court became more considerable. In 1547,
his patron the protector duke of Somerset, bestowed on him
the place of master of requests, and took him with him
in his expedition into Scotland, in September of that year,
where he was present at the battle of Musselburgh, and
very narrowly escaped a cannon-shot. On his return to
court, Edward VI. advanced him to the high post of secretary of slate, which he enjoyed twice in that reign, first
in 1548, and then, after an interval, in 1551, but historians are not agreed in these dates, although what we have
given appear to be pretty near the truth. When the
party was formed against the protector, Mr. Cecil shared
in his fall, which followed soon afterwards, and was sent
to prison in November 1549, where he remained three
months.

On his being liberated, he was again introduced to court,
where his acknowledged abilities regained him his office,
under the duke of Northumberland, the enemy and accomplisher of the ruin of his old patron the duke of Somerset. This re-appointment took place, as we have noticed, in September 1551, and in October following he
was knighted, and sworn of the privy-council. He has
been much blamed for this transfer of his services, as a sacrifice of his gratitude to his interest; and many excuses,
palliations, and even justifications, have been urged for
him. The best seems to be that his pretensions to the
promotion were founded, not on his servility and dependence on one or the other of these great men, but on his superior fitness for the office. It is universally allowed that
he possessed great abilities, and his credit now increased
with the young king, for whom he is said to have written
many of those papers, &c. which are generally attributed
to Edward. The princess Mary affected on one occasion
to discover this, for when a letter from his majesty was
presented to her on her obstinate adherence to the popish
religion, she cried, “Ah! Mr. Cecil’s pen took great
pains here.”

Sir William Cecil acted \yith such caution and prudence
in the various intrigues for the crown on the death of king
Edward, that on queen Mary’s accession, although known
to be a zealous protestaut, he remained unmolested in
| person, property, or reputation. Rapin has given a very
unfair colouring to sir William’s conduct at this critical
period. After stating that he waited upon the queen, was
graciously received, and might have kept his employment,
if he would have complied so far as to have declared himself of her majesty’s religion, he closes with the following
remark: “He was nevertheless exposed to no persecution
on account of his religion, whether his artful behaviour
gave no advantages against him, or his particular merit
procured him a distinction above all other protestants.”
As to the artfulness of his behaviour, it will best appear
from the answer he gave to those honourable persons, who
by command of the queen communed with him on this
subject, to whom he declared, “That he thought himself
bound to serve God first, and next the queen; but if her
service should put him out of God’s service, he hoped her
majesty would give him leave to chuse an everlasting, rather than a momentary service; and as for the queen, she
had been his so gracious lady, that he would ever serve
and pray for her in his heart, and with his body and goods
be as ready to serve in her defence as any of her loyal
subjects, so she would please to grant him leave to use his
conscience to himself, and serve her at large as a private
man, which he chose rather than to be her greatest counsellor,” The queen took him at his word, and this was
all the art that sir William used to procure liberty of conscience for himself; unless we should call it art, that he
behaved himself with much prudence and circumspection
afterwards. Nor is it true, as insinuated by Rapin, that
he was the only protestant unmolested in this reign.
Among others, the names of sir Thomas Smith, and the
celebrated Roger Ascham, may be quoted; but as Mary’s
bigotry increased with her years, it may be doubtful whether those would have been long spared. Almost the last
act of her life was an attempt to kindle the flames of persecution in Ireland.

During the reign of Mary, sir William Cecil represented
the county of Lincoln; and was active in the mollifying of
a bill for confiscating the estates of those who had fled the
kingdom for their religion, and while thus employed, he
carried on a private correspondence with the princess Elizabeth, the presumptive heir to the crown. In these
transactions he seems to have abated somewhat of that
caution imputed to him by historians, and certainly
|
encountered some danger; but his character, bold, spirited,
and open, seems to have afforded him protection, while
he refers his courage to a higher source. In his diary, he
says, “I spoke my mind freely, whereby I incurred some
displeasure. But better it is to obey God than man.”

All this was very gratefully acknowledged by Elizabeth,
on her accession to the throne, Norember 16, 1558. The
first service that he rendered her was on that day, when
he presented her with a paper, consisting of twelve particulars, which were necessary for her to dispatch immediately. At the time of her sister’s decease, queen Eliza*
beth was at her manor of Hatfield, whither most of the
leading men repaired to her; and on the 20th of the same
month, her council was formed, when sir William Cecil
was first sworn privy-counsellor and secretary of state;
and as he entered thus early into his sovereign’s favour, so
he continued in it as long as he lived; which if in one
sense it does honour to the abilities and services of Cecil,
it was in another no less glorious to the queen his mistress,
who, in this respect, did not act from any spirit of partiality or of prepossession, but with that wisdom and prudence which directed her judgment in all things. She
saw plainly that sir William Cecil’s interests were interwoven with her own, and that he was fittest to be her
counsellor whose private safety must depend upon the
success of the counsel he gave; and though there were
other persons, who were sometimes as great or greater favourites than Cecil, yet he was the only minister whom,
she always consulted, and whose advice she very rarely
rejected. The first thing he advised was to call a parliament, for the settlement of religion; and caused a plan of
deformation to be drawn with equal circumspection and
moderation; for, though no man was a more sincere protestant, yet he had no vindictive prejudices against papists,
nor did he on the other hand lay any greater weight upon
indifferent things, than he judged absolutely necessary for
preserving decency and order. It was his opinion that
without an established church, the state could not at that
time subsist; and whoever considers the share he had in
establishing it, and has a just veneration for that wise and
excellent establishment, cannot but allow that the most
grateful reverence is due to his memory.

The remainder of his administration would in fact be a
history of that memorable reign, and in such a sketch as
| the present, we can advert only to the leading events.
He had not been long seated in his high office, before
foreign affairs required his care. France, Spain, and Scotland, all demanded the full force of his wisdom and skill.
Spain was a secret enemy; France was a declared one, and
had Scotland much in her power. By the minister’s advice, therefore, the interest of the reformed religion in
Scotland was taken under Elizabeth’s protection. This
produced the convention of Leith; and Cecil, as a remuneration for his services in this affair, obtained the place
of master of the wards, Jan. 10, 1561, an office which he
did not take as a sinecure, but of which he discharged the
load of business with patience and diligence to the satisfaction of all. In his management of the house of commons,
sir William exhibited equal caution, address, and capacity. The question of the future succession to the crown
was often brought forward, sometimes from real and wellfounded anxiety; sometimes from officiousness; and often
from factious motives. On this subject both the sovereign
and the minister preserved an unbroken reserve, from
which neither irritation nor calumny could induce him to
depart. Perhaps this reserve, on his part, arose from his
deference to the queen, but it seems more likely that his
advice influenced her behaviour on this critical point.
There were no less than three claimants publicly mentioned, viz. the queen of Scots, the family of Hastings,
and the family of Suffolk; and the partizans of each of
these were equally vehement and loud, as appears by
“Leicester’s Commonwealth,” Doleman’s “Treatise of
the Succession,” and other pieces on the same subject.
The queen observed a kind of neutrality, but still in such
a manner as sufficiently intimated she favoured the first
title, or rather looked upon it as the best, notwithstanding
the jealousies she had of her presumptive successor. This
appeared by her confining John Hales, who wrote a book
in defence of the Suffolk line, and by imprisoning one
Thornton, upon the complaint of the queen of Scots, for
writing against her title. The secretary kept himself clear
of all this, and never gave the least intimation of his own
sentiments, farther than that he wished the question of the
succession might rest during the queen’s life, or till she,
thought proper to determine it in a legal way.

Sir William early penetrated into the hostile feelings of
II. of Spain; but he advised his mistress to keep ou
| her guard against that monarch; and yet not to break with
him. With France he proposed ether measures; the protestants had there created very powerful internal dissentions, and England, he thought, might avail herself of
that hostility with effect, while it opened a probability of
success, and afforded an opportunity for our troops to gain
experience, and our navy strength. His rival, Leicester,
in vain misrepresented and censured the advice now given,
for the purpose of destroying the queen’s confidence in
him; and a plot laid by that subtle favourite for overthrowing him utterly failed, through her majesty’s penetration
and spirit. The affair is thus related:

Some Spanish ships, having great treasure on board,
put into the English ports to secure it from the French,
and afterwards landed it, the queen’s officers assisting, and
the Spanish ambassador solemnly affirming it was his master’s money, and that he was sending it into the Netherlands for the pay of his army. The secretary, in the mean
time, received advice that this was not true, and that it
was the money of some Genoese bankers, who were in the
greatest terror lest the duke of Alva should convert the
same to his master’s use, in order to carry on some great
design, which the court of Spain kept as an impenetrable
secret. Cecil therefore advised the queen to take the
money herself, and give the Genoese security for it, by
which she would greatly advantage her own affairs, distress
the Spaniards, relieve the Netherlands, and wrong nobody.
The queen took his advice, and when upon this the duke
of Alva seized the effects of the English in the Netherlands,
she made reprisals, and out of them immediately indemnified her own merchants. The Spanish ambassador at London behaved with great violence upon this occasion, giving
secretary Cecil ill language at the council-table, and libelling the queen, by appealing to the people against
their sovereign’s administration. This produced a great
deal of disturbance, and Leicester and his party took care
to have it published every where, that Cecil was the sole
author of this counsel. While things were in this ferment,
Leicester held a private consultation with the lords he had
drawn to his interest, wherein he proposed that they should
take this occasion of removing a man whom they unanimously bated. Some of the lords inquiring how this could
be 4one? sir Nicholas Throgmorton answered, “Let him
be charged with some matter or other in council when the
| queen is not present, commit him to the Tower thereupon,
and when he is once in prison we shall find things enow
against him.” It so happened, that about this time a flagrant libel being published against the nobility, lord Leicester caused Cecil to be charged before the council,
either with being the author of it, or it’s patron; of which
he offered no other proof than that it had been seen on
Cecil’s table. This the secretary readily confessed, but
insisted that he looked upon it in the same light they
did, as a most scandalous invective; in support of which
he produced his own copy with notes on the margin, affirming that he had caused a strict inquiry to be made
after the author and publisher of the work. All this, however, would have been but of little use to him, if the
queen had not had private notice of their design. While
therefore the secretary was defending himself, she suddenly and unexpectedly entered the council-room, and
having in few words expressed her dislike of such cabals,
preserved her minister, and shewed even Leicester himself
that he could not be overthrown. The affair of the duke
of Norfolk’s ruin followed, not long after he had been
embarked in the faction against Cecil; and therefore we
find this minister sometimes charged, though very unjustly, with being the author of his misfortunes, a calumny
from which he vindicated himself with candour, clearness,
and vivacity, as equally abhorring the thoughts of revenge,
and hazarding the public safety to facilitate his private
advantage. Cecil, indeed, had no greater share in the
duke’s misfortune, than was necessarily imposed upon him
by his office of secretary, and which consequently it was
not in his power to avoid; to which we may add, that the
duke himself was in some measure accessary thereto, by
acting under the delusive influence of his capital enemy as
well as Cecil’s. The duke’s infatuated conduct, after
having once received a pardon, rendered his practices too
dangerous to be again forgiven. It cannot be doubted that
this great nobleman was the tool of the views of the catholic party: and there is reason to believe that the previous design of ruining Cecil was to get rid of him before
this plan was ripe, from a just fear of his penetration, and
his power to defeat it. Cecil’s fidelity was followed by
much, public and some severe private revenge. His sonin-law, lord Oxford, put his threat into execution of
|
ruining his daughter, by forsaking her bed, and wasting the
fortune of her posterity, if the duke’s life was not spared.

The queen was so sensible of the great importance of Cecil’s service on this occasion, that, however sparing of her
honours, she raised him to the peerage by the title of Baron
of Burleigh in February 1571, when he had not much to
support his rank, for in a confidential letter written about
this time, he calls himself “the poorest lord in England.”
The queen’s favour did not in other respects add to his
comfort, nor protect him from new attempts to destroy him.
A conspiracy of the private kind was now formed against
his life: and the two assassins, Barney and Matter, charged
it, at their execution, on the Spanish ambassador, for which
and other offences the ambassador was ordered to quit the
kingdom. As a consolation, however, for these dangers,
he was honoured with the order of the garter in June 1572;
and in September following, on the death of the marquis
of Winchester, was appointed lord high treasurer.

The weight of business that now lay upon him, and the
variety of his duties, was such as it seems almost incredible
that one man could discharge; yet he went through them
all with the utmost strictness and punctuality. All his
power, talents, industry, and fortitude, could not however
at all times place him above anxiety and disgust at the
intrigues, troubles, and dangers that surrounded him. He
had even thoughts of a resignation, which the queen would
not hear of. The popish and Spanish factions were his
incessant enemies; and the favourite Leicester never
slackened in his arts to lower and counteract him. His vigour however was not lessened; and the next great affair
in which he was engaged required it all. The trial of the
queen of Scots approached; and the lord treasurer is
charged with having been a strong promoter of this measure. Of an affair which has engaged the pens and passions of so many able historians, it would be impossible in
this place to discuss the merits. We shall only add in the
words of an able authority, whom we have in various instances followed, that the measure was a tremendously
strong one but there might be a state- necessity for it.
Burleigh was not a man of blood Mary’s intrigues were
incessant and her constant intercourse and machinations
with a truly dangerous, powerful, and unappeasable faction, notorious.
| In March 1587, the lord treasurer lost his mother at a
great age, with which he was much affected; and on April
4, 1589, he lost his beloved wife, daughter of sir Anthony
Cook, whose death he mourned with the deepest regret*.
He had but lately been delivered from the fatigue of drawing up schemes for the defence of the country against the
threatened Spanish armada. Not long afterwards he again
requested to resign, but the queen still refused to spare his
services, and the remaining part of his life was spent in
the unabated discharge of his high office. In 1592 he
managed the concerns of a supply, which he furthered in
the upper house by a speech of great knowledge and talent. In short, even at this late period of his age, almost
all the important affairs of state were under his guidance,
and ecclesiastical affairs, in particular, required much of
his moderating wisdom. Besides the catholic party, he
had to contend with some of the ablest of the puritans, who
maintained a hostility of a different kind with the established church. Matters of finance, and the affairs of the
admiralty, were all continually referred to him; and he let
nothing pass him without due consideration. The maxim
which aided him through these complicated concerns was
this, that “the shortest way to do many things was only
to do one thing at once.”

The last memorable act of his life was the attempt to
bring about a peace with Spain, in which he was vehemently opposed by Essex, then in the fire of youth, which
might animate him to daring deeds to gratify his own ambition. The young soldier was warm in the debate, which
induced the venerable minister to pull out a prayer-book,
and point to the words " Men of blood shall not live out

* This lady was wonderfully learn- be bought in the name of the dean of
ed, especially in the Greek tongue, as Westminster, and by him assigned to
appears from the testimony of the the college. She likewise gave the
lord Burleigh himself, and of several Haberdashers’ company in London, a
other great men, and of which she left sum to enable them to lend to six poor
clear evidence, in a letter penned by men twenty pounds a-piece every tw
her in thai language to the university years and a charity of the like kind
of Cambridge, upon her sending thi- of twenty marks, to six poor people
ther a HebrewBible, by way of pre- at Waltham and Cheshunt in Hertfordsent to the library. She had read most shire. Four times every year she reof the Greek fathers with great dili- lieved all the poor prisoners in Longence and criticalaccuracy, and was den, and many other acts of benevoone of the greatest patronesses of her lence she did, with as great secrecy as
time, maintaining for many years two generosity so that she seems to have
scholars at St. John’s college in Cam- well deserved all the praises that have
bridge and before her death rendered ben by different writers bestowed
this perpetual, by procuring lands to upon her memory.
| half their days." At length worn out with age, and more
than forty years’ uninterrupted and unexampled labours in
the state, on the 4th of August, 1598, about four in the
morning, in the presence of twenty children, friends and
servants, he yielded up the ghost with wonderful serenity,
being upwards of seventy-seven years old.

With regard to his person, though he was not remarkably tall, nor eminently handsome, yet his person was
always agreeable, and became more and more so, as he
grew in years, age becoming him better than youth. The
hair of his head and beard grew perfectly white, and he
preserved almost to his dying day a fine and florid complexion. His temper contributed much towards making
him generally beloved, for he was always serene and
cheerful; so perfect a master of his looks and words, that
what passed in his mind was never discoverable from either;
patient in hearing, ready in answering, yet without any
quickness, and in a style suited to the understanding of
him to whom he spoke. Idleness was his aversion; and
though from twenty-five years of age, at which he was
sworn a privy counsellor, being then the youngest, as at
his death the oldest in Europe, he laboured under a great
weignt of public business; yet when he had any vacant
moments he spent them not in trifles, or in pursuit of sensual pleasures, but in reading, meditating, or writing. He
had a perfect knowledge, not only of foreign countries,
but of foreign courts; knew the genius of every prince in
Europe, his counsellors and favourites. At home he kept
exact lists of all the great officers, and particularly of the
sages in the law. He was acquainted with the course of
every court of judicature in England, knew its rise, jurisdiction, and proper sphere of action; within which he took
care that it should act with vigour, and was no less careful
that it should not exceed its bounds. He wrote not only
elegant Latin in prose, but also very good verses in that,
and in the English language. He understood Greek as
well as most men in that age; and was so learned in divinity, that divines of all persuasions were desirous of submitting to his judgment.*

*

He was very much pressed by
some divines of his time, who waited
on him in a body, to make some alterations in the Liturgy. He desired
them to go into the next room by
and bring him in their
unanimous opinion upon some of the
disputed points. They returned, bowever, to him very soon, without bing
able to agree. “Why, gentlemen,”
said he, " how can you expect that I
shall alter any point in dispute, when

you, who must be more competent,
from your situation, to judge than I
can possibly be, cannot agree among
yourselves in what manner you would
have me alter it?“Dr. Wall, in his
translation of Cicero’s Epistles, says,
that this great statesman made them
”his glasse, his rule, his
and his pocket-book."

His peculiar diversions were
| the study of the state of England, and the pedigrees of its
nobility and gentry: of these last he drew whole books
with his own hand, so that he was better versed in descents
and families, than most of the heralds; and would often
surprize persons of distinction at his table, by appearing
better acquainted with their manors, parks, woods, &c.
than tfcey were themselves. To this continual application,
and to his genius, naturally comprehensive, was owing that
fund of knowledge, which made him never at a loss in any
company, or upon any subject. It was also owing to this
that he spoke with such wonderful weight on all public occasions, generally at the end of the debate, but without
repetition of what was said before, stating the matter
clearly, shewing the convenience sought, the inconveniences feared; the means of attaining the former, and
the methods by which the latter might be avoided, with a
succinctness and accuracy which, perhaps, hardly ever fell
to any other man’s share. But what was stiH more surprising, was the great facility with which he did this; for
he required no preparation, no time for his most laboured
speeches, nor ever turned a book for his most learned
writings, but thought, and spoke, digested, and dictated,
without any hesitation, with the greatest perspicuity of sentiment, and the utmost fulness of diction.

With regard to his domestic habits, he had during queen
Elizabeth’s reign, four places of residence; his lodgings
at court, his house in the Strand, his family seat at Burleigh, and his own favourite seat at Theobalds. At his
house in London he had fourscore persons in family, exclusively of those who attended him at court. His expences there, as we have it from a person who lived many
years in his family, were thirty pounds a week in his absence, and between forty and fifty when present. At
Theobalds he had thirty persons in family; and besides a
constant allowance in charity, he directed ten pounds a
week to be laid out in keeping the poor at work in his gardens, &c. The expences of his stables were a thousand
marks a year: so that as he had a great income, and left a
good estate to his children, he was not afraid of keeping
| up also a style suited to his offices. He also kept a standing table for gentlemen, and two other tables for persons
of meaner condition, which were always served alike, whether he were in town or out of town. About his person he
had people of great distinction, and had twenty gentlemen
retainers, who had each a thousand pounds a year; and as
many among his ordinary servants, who were worth from
lOOOl. to 3, 5, 10, and 20,000. Twelve times he entertained the queen at his house for several weeks together,
at the expence of 2 or 3000l. each time. Three fine houses
he built, one in London, another at Burleigh, and the third
at Theobalds: all of which were less remarkable for their
largeness and magnificence, than for their neatness and
excellent contrivance. Yet with all this mighty expence,
it was the opinion of competent judges, that an avaricious
man would have made more of his offices in seven years,
than he did in forty. At his death he left about 4000l. a
year inland, ll,000l. in money, and in valuable effects
about 14,000l.

He was considered as the best parent of his time, for he
had all his children, and their descendants, constantly at
his table; and in their conversation lay the greatest pleasure of his life, especially while his mother lived, who was
able to see the fifth descent from herself, there being no
degree of relation, or consanguinity, which at festival times
were not to be found at lord Burleigh’s table. It was there
that, laying aside all thoughts of business, he was so
affable, easy, and merry, that he seemed never to have
thought of any, and yet this was the only part of his life
which was entirely free therefrom; and his frankness and
familiarity brought so many persons of high rank to his
house, as did him great credit and service. In respect to
his friends, he was always easy, cheerful, and kind; and
whatever their condition was, he talked to them, as if they
had been his equals in every respect; yet it is said, that
he was held a better enemy than friend; and that this was
so well known, that some opposed him from a view of interest. It is certain, that those who were most intimate
with him, had no sort of influence over him, and did not
care to ask him for any thing; because he did not readily
grant, and was little pleased with such sort of suits. One
reason of this was, that most of those whom he preferred
became his enemies, because he would not gratify them in
farther pretensions. His secrets he trusted with none,
|
indulged a general conversation, and would not suffer affairs
of state to be canvassed in mixed company, or when friends
were met to divert themselves. With respect to his enemies, he never said any thing harsh of them, farthered on
every occasion their reasonable requests, and was so far
from seeking, that he neglected all opportunities of revenge; always professing, that he never went to bed out
of charity with any man; and frequently saying, that patience, and a calm bearing of aspersions and injuries, had
wrought him more good than his own abilities. He was
far, however, from being an ungrateful man, for without
intreaty he would serve his friends as far as it was just;
and for his servants, and those about him, he was very
careful of their welfare, mostly at his own expence. He
never raised his own rents, or displaced his tenants; and as
the rent was when he bought land, so it stood; insomuch,
that some enjoyed, for twenty pounds a year, during his
whole life, what might have been let for two hundred:
yet in his public character he was very severe; and as he
never meddled with the queen’s treasure himself, so he
would see that it was not embezzled by others; for it was
his saying, that whoever cheated the crown oppressed the
people. In the midst of all his grandeur he was ever easy
of access, free from pride, and alike complaisant to all
degrees of people: for as he was grave in council, exact
in courts of justice, familiar towards his friends, outwardly
and inwardly fond of his children, so when he went into
the country he would converse with all his servants as
kindly as if he had been their equal; talk to country people in their own style and manner, and would even condescend to sooth little children in their sports and plays so
gentle was his temper, and so abundant his good-nature.
At Theobalds he had fine gardens, which cost him a great
deal of money, and which were laid out according to his
own directions. He had a little mule, upon which he rode
up and down the walks; sometimes he would look on those
who were shooting with arrows, or playing with bowls;
but as for himself, he never took any diversion, taking that
word in its usual sense. He had two or three friends, who
were constantly at his table, because he liked their company; but in all his life he never had one favourite, or
suffered any body to get an ascendant over him. His
equipage, his great house-keeping, his numerous dependents, were the effects of his sense, and not at all of his
| passions, for he delighted little iri any of them; and whenever he had any time to spare, he fled, as his expression
was, to Theobalds, and buried himself in privacy.

The queen’s regard to lord Burleigh, though sincere and
permanent, was occasionally intermixed with no small degree of petulance and ill humour. He was severely reproached by her in 1594, on account of the state of affairs
in Ireland; and, on another occasion, when he persisted,
against her will, in a design of quitting the court for a few
days, for the purpose of taking physic, she called him
“a froward old fool.” He fell also under her majesty’s
displeasure because he disagreed with her in opinion concerning an affair which related to the earl of Essex. Having supported the earl’s claim, in opposition to the queen,
her indignation was so much excited against the treasurer, that she treated him as a miscreant and a coward.
Lord Burleigh being in the latter part of his life much
subject to the gout, sir John Harrington observes, in a
letter to his lordship, that he did not invite the stay of
such a guest by rich wines, or strong spices. It is pro­.bable that the frequent return of this disorder, in conjunction with the weight of business, and the general infirmities of age, contributed to the peevishness into which he
was sometimes betrayed. In a conversation which he had
with Mons. de Fouquerolles, an agent from Henry the
Fourth, king of France, he lost himself so much, as to
yeflect in the grossest terms upon that monarch. This
was, indeed, an astonishing act of imprudence, in a man
of his years and experience; and affords a striking instance
of the errors and inadvertencies to which the wisest and
best persons are liable. When the lord treasurer died,
queen Elizabeth was so much affected with the event, that
she took it very grievously, shed tears, and separated herself, for a time, from all company.

Besides these lesser failings of this great man, he has
been accused of illiberality to the poet Spenser, which
perhaps may be attributed to his dislike of Leicester, under
whose patronage Spenser had come forward, but perhaps
more to his want of relish for poetry. On the other hand,
our historians are generally agreed in their praises of his
high character. Smollett only has endeavoured to lessen
it, but as this is coupled with a disregard for historical
truth, the attempt is entitled to little regard, and the advocates for Mary queen of Scots cannot be supposed to
| forgive the share he had in her fate. Lord Orford has
given lord Burleigh a place among his “Royal and Noble
Authors,” but at the same time justly observes, that he is one
of those great names, better known in the annals of his country than in those of the republic of letters. Besides lord
Burleigh’s answer to a Latin libel published abroad, which
he entitled “Slanders and Lies,” and “A Meditation of
the State of England, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth,”
lord Orford mentions “La Complainte de PAme pecheresse,” in French verse, extant in the king’s library; “Car
mina duo Latina in Obitum Margaretae Nevillee, Reginoe
Catherine a Cubiculis;” “Carmen Latinum in Memoriain
Tho. Challoneri Equitis aurati, prsefixum ejusdem Libro de
restaurata Republica;” “A Preface to Queen Catherine
Parr’s Lamentation of a Sinner.” When sir William Cecil
accompanied the duke of Somerset on his expedition to
Scotland, he furnished materials for an account of that
war, which was published by William Patten, under the
title of “Diarium Expeditions Scoticae,” London, 1541,
12mo. This is supposed to be the reason why lord Burleigh is reckoned by Holinshed among the English historians. “The first paper or memorial of sir William Cecil \
anno primo Eliz.” This, which is only a paper of memorandums, is printed in Somers’s tracts, from a manuscript
in the Cotton library. “A Speech in Parliament, 1592.”
This was first published by Strype in his Annals, and has
since been inserted in the Parliamentary History. “Lord
Burleigh’s Precepts, or directions for the well-ordering and
carriage of a man’s life,” 1637. “A Meditation on the
Death of his Lady.” Mr. Ballard, in his Memoirs of British Ladies, has printed this Meditation from an original
formerly in the possession of James West, esq. but now in
the British Museum. Lord Burleigh was supposed to be
the author of a thin pamphlet, in defence of the punishments inflicted on the Roman catholics in the reign of
queen Elizabeth: it is called “The Execution of Justice
in England, for maintenance of public and Christian peace,
against certain stirrers of sedition, and adherents to the
traitors and enemies of the realm, without any persecution
of them for questions of religion, as it is falsely reported,
&c.” London, 1583, second edition. Other political piece*
were ascribed to him, and even the celebrated libel, entitled “Leicester’s Commonwealth,” It was asserted, that
the hints, at least, were furnished by him for that
|
composition. But no proof has been given of this assertion,
and it was not founded on any degree of probability. His
lordship drew up also a number of pedigrees, some of
which are preserved in the archbishop of Canterbury’s
library at Lambeth. These contain the genealogies of the
kings of England, from William the Conqueror to Edward
the Fourth; of queen Anne Boleyn; and of several princely
houses in Germany.

Out of the large multitude of lord Burleigh’s letters,
which are extant in various places, many have found their
way to the press. Thirty-three are printed in Peck’s Desiderata Curiosa, and three in Howard’s Collections. Many
more may be met with in Dr. Forbes’s, Haynes’s, and
Murdin’s State Papers. The two last publications are specifically taken from the original letters, and other authentic memorials left by lord Burleigh, and now remaining at
Hatfield -house, in the library of the earl of Salisbury.
Haynes’s collection, which was published in 1740, extends
from 1542 to 1570. Murdin’s, which appeared in 1759,
reaches from 1571 to 1596. Both these publications throw
great light on the period to which they relate, and have
been of eminent service to our recent historians. The
whole course of the proceedings, relative to Mary queen
of Scots, is particularly displayed in these collections; on
which account much use has lately been made of them by
Dr. Gilbert Stuart. In the original papers of Mr. Anthony
Bacon, are several letters of lord Burleigh, from which
various extracts have been given by Dr. Birch, in his “Memoirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth.” There is also in
the Nugsc Antiques, a letter of advice, written by his lordship in 1578, to Mr. Harrington (afterwards sir John Harrington), then a student at the university of Cambridge. In
the earl of Hardwicke’s miscellaneous State Papers, besides
a number of letters addressed to Cecil, there are seven of
his own writing, relative to important public concerns.
One of them shews in a striking view, the friendly behaviour of lord Burleigh to the earl of Leicester, when that
nobleman laboured under the queen’s displeasure, and
reflects great honour on the old treasurer’s memory. It is
strange, says the earl of Hardwicke, that Camden passes it
over in silence: but, indeed, adds his lordship, that historian’s omissions are very unpardonable, considering the
lights he had. As to lord Burleigh’s unpublished papers,
they are still exceedingly numerous, and are extant in the
| British Museum, in the libraries of the earls of Salisbury
and Hardwicke, and in other places.

His lordship was buried at Stamford, where an elegant
monument is erected to his memory. By his first wife he
had his son and heir Thomas earl of Exeter, and by his
second a numerous issue, who all died before him except
the subject of the following article, to whom he addressed
those valuable “precepts” so often reprinted. Few men
knew better than lord Burleigh how to advise the young.
Peacham, in his “Gentleman,” informs us that when any
one came to the lords of the council for a licence to travel,
he would first examine him of England, and if he found
him ignorant, he would bid him stay at home, and know
his own country first. 1

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